


The Quincux of a Heart

by orphan_account



Series: OCD Freewood [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Freewood - Freeform, M/M, Mental Illness, OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Ryvin, mentally ill!ryan, store clerk gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin is a store clerk living a mundane existence, but all of that changes when a rather odd customer checks out in a most unusual way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quincux of a Heart

**Author's Note:**

> my mom and i both suffer from two different types of very minimal OCD, and I've always wondered what life would be like if I had a severe case that reached past a need for colour coordination.

"I swear to God, Ray. If I have to deal with another old woman with fifty coupons, I'm going to scream!"   
  
Gavin, a scrawny young man with tanned skin, a smooth British accent, and styled golden-brown hair, was leaned over his register, complaining to the shorter man at register six.  
  
Ray adjusted his glasses, grinning. "At least you're having a better day than Michael." He gestured to register nine, where their curly-haired friend was red-faced as he juggled a rather rude-looking man and his four reckless and wild children, each of which were either attempting to climb on the conveyor belt or press buttons on the register. Gavin snorted, certain they'd hear his mouthful of curses later.  
  
"Yes, but I just don't understand why nobody cute ever comes down this aisle. Even Michael got the number of that red-haired bird earlier." He sighed wistfully, resisting the urge to flop over his counter and lay on the floor.  
  
"The tough life of a supermarket clerk." Ray said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned to the teenage girl placing her items on the counter and smiled a warm greeting to her.  
  
Gavin looked up at the lit number five above his head, flicking the switch a couple times to make it turn off and on quickly, wishing he could just leave it off. One more hour, he reminded himself.  
  
"Is this register okay to use? Okay to use? Occupied? Open?" A deep voice spoke in quick succession and Gavin looked up to be met with bright blue eyes. He froze for a moment before grinning.  
  
"Oh! Um, yes it's open. Sorry." He muttered and the older-looking man smirked as he began to place his items onto the belt slowly, lining them up perfectly and grouping them together.  
  
"Perfectionist?" Gavin remarked and the older man flushed red.   
  
"You could say that." He mumbled and Gavin snickered.   
  
"Well, I'll try to swipe them in order then." He picked up a container of Red Bull, noticing there were five of them; there were five of quite a few items, actually.  
  
"Thanks. Thanks. Thanks. Thank you." The man pressed a finger to his lips before muttering another thank you.  
  
"Did you find everything...okay...?" He trailed off as the man suddenly reached over and began to flick the switch turning his light on and off with a rapid motion, his gaze focused on the floor as he did so. Gavin continued to scan the items, thoroughly confused as he did so.  
  
"Um... it's cool, huh? I like to mess around with it sometimes, too. I don't think I've ever had a customer play with it though." He said, tone hinting that he should stop.  
  
The man continued to do it several more times before withdrawing his hand and biting his lower lip with an embarrassed expression. "I... I just needed to do that." He shrugged as he handed over his credit card.  
  
"Do whatever you need to, I guess." Gavin furrowed his brow as he swiped the card and handed it back.   
  
"I'm Ryan, anyways." He offered. "By the way." He corrected himself.  
  
"Gavin." The young man held up his hand in a wave and Ryan grabbed it, holding it for several seconds. Gavin's face flushed as the older man let go and gathered up his bags, picking them up methodically.   
  
"Goodbye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye." Ryan turned to leave and Gavin watched as he approached the automatic doors, took ten steps backwards, five steps forwards, and five more backward steps before proceeding out.  
  
"What in the bloody Hell?" Gavin questioned, turning back to Ray, who had been watching the event.  
  
"That guy was fucking weird." Ray chuckled. "I guess register five has the worst luck after all."  
  
"Damn. He was cute, too. I wonder why he kept messing with my switch like that." Gavin questioned, flexing fingers on the hand Ryan had held.  
  
"Probably strung out on some sorta drug. Remember when that coke head came in here and tried to buy twenty pounds of roast beef with a handful of buttons?" As he was speaking, they noticed Michael barreling towards them, practically fuming.  
  
"Fucking piece of shit kids and their fucking irresponsible parents. I'm going on a God damned break, Jesus fucking Christ!" He whisper-yelled at them and in the midst of laughing, the odd customer left Gavin's mind.  
  
-  
  
It had been a week since Gavin's odd run-in and he'd completely forgotten about it; he was having a pretty good day with only a few rude customers and was about to take his break, actually, when he saw him again.   
  
"One more customer and I'll go for lunch." He told himself, tapping a pen against the register idly. He heard footsteps and perked up, putting on his best smile.  
  
"Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks." He heard being murmured as a man with striking blue eyes and sandy blond hair approached him, his face red and terrified.  
  
"Are... are you okay, sir?" He asked, smile faltering. Tears began to form in the older man's eyes as he continued to repeat the curse in tones ranging from sarcastic to angry, getting louder with each time.  
  
"Dicks, dicks, dicks!" He looked so distressed Gavin felt sorry for him, holding out a hand in concern. The man took it and Gavin suddenly remembered him; Ryan had been his name. He held it for several seconds before shaking his head and abandoning his items, rushing towards the exit and performing the same footwork he had the last time before leaving. Gavin looked after him, confused.  
  
"I guess I'll just... put these back, then?" He uttered under his breath, flicking his light off as he grabbed the cart with a quiet sigh.  
  
-  
  
The next day was a hard one; a woman had screamed at him for twenty minutes that she couldn't return a shirt she'd worn, despite how many times Gavin tried to explain that not only did he not handle returns, but she couldn't return a used item anyways. After that, a child had spilled her slushie all over his register, the keys of which were still annoyingly sticky despite the effort he'd taken to clean it. Not to mention that neither Ray nor Michael were working, so he was alone besides Barbara, the latter of which was clear down working at register twelve.  
  
He was glaring at a pack of gum when he heard footsteps and looked up to see Ryan, grinning sheepishly.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't care to drug addicts. You'll have to come back when you're sober." He spat out and Ryan's face turned to one of pain, sending a stab of guilt through the younger man.  
  
"I... I'm not on any drugs. On any drugs. Doing any drugs." He corrected, brow furrowing. "I have OCD. OCD. Obsessive-compulsive disorder. OCD." He bit his lower lip and Gavin's hazel eyes widened in horror.  
  
"Oh! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't... I thought..." He trailed off, wishing more than anything that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.  
  
Ryan tapped his nose with his finger ten times before responding. "It's fine. Okay. I understand. I... I get that a lot." He hesitated before placing his items on the conveyor belt once again, lining them up as he had before. "I hate to bother you, but register ten never seems to be open."  
  
"Annoy you." He muttered, changing his words as he kept his gaze from Gavin's face.  
  
"You're not! God, I've made a right mong of myself, haven't I? You don't bother me. I just didn't know, y'know?" He tried to explain and Ryan nodded his head five times.  
  
"Sorry, Gavin. Gavin. Gavin. Gavin. Gavin." He groaned at himself as Gavin began to swipe the items. His hand once again found the switch, flicking it up and down.  
  
"So, you have a thing for the number five, I'm guessing?" Gavin asked, watching his fingers move.  
  
"There must be five. Or some group of five. Your register is five, I like that. The switch... it isn't right. It just.... there." He gave it a satisfied look and Gavin grinned at him.  
  
"Y'know, I often feel that switch doesn't look right." He teased, lightening the mood, and Ryan's shoulders relaxed. "Hey, I'm going on break after you. If you're not doing anything, maybe you'd like to join me for lunch  at Subway? My treat, of course! It could be an apology lunch." He offered and Ryan's eyes darted from him to the counter several times before he nodded his head five times.  
  
"That sounds okay. Nice. Pleasant." He frowned. "Pleasant. Pleasant. Pleasant." He seemed to mull over the word before smiling.  
  
"Top!" He checked to make sure his light was off before going around his little counter and walking beside the older man.   
  
Ryan paused a lot, Gavin noticed. He would retrace his steps quite often and the three minute walk to the in-store Subway managed to take them a little over ten; not that Gavin complained. He just watched.  
  
"Can I apologize ahead of time for this? Actually, you can still back out." He grimaced, stopping short of the small eating area. "Change your mind."  
  
"Nonsense! There's nothing to fret over, luv." He led the way and Ryan stepped up to the counter, smiling at the older woman working there.  
  
"Welcome to Subway! How may I help you?" She asked and Ryan looked as if he wanted to run away.  
  
"Hold on. I didn't... approach right." He stepped back five times before walking forward again. "Ah. Hi. Could I have a number two? But... could you put five of each thing on it?" He asked nervously, and she gave him an inquisitive look before complying. She pulled out the bread, cutting it, and Ryan cringed. "Could you... not use that one? The cut isn't right."  
  
"You can use that for mine!" Gavin butted in, smiling. The woman frowned as she took out another loaf of bread, cutting it more slowly. Ryan puffed out his cheeks but kept quiet. He focused his eyes on Gavin's face, twitching in his effort to not watch the imperfections she was making on his sandwich.   
  
Looking over at Ryan, and the pain in his blue eyes, was the first time he felt a stab of pity for the older man. He found himself annoyed with Ryan's disease, especially with how kind he seemed to be.  
  
When their food was finally ready and they'd sat down with it, Gavin noticed that Ryan seemed significantly worse.  
  
"So, Gavin. Gavin, Gavin, Gavin... Gavin." He clenched his teeth, blinking rapidly. "I'm sure you have some questions. Inquiries."   
  
"I mean, if you're willing to talk about it, I'd like to know a bit." Gavin shrugged, watching as Ryan opened his sub and began to organize things the way he needed them to be.  
  
"I need... I require, I need to be perfect. My steps, my words, items, actions. I need it to be right. I've tried therapy. I've been recommended therapy. They said I should purposefully trigger myself. I should intentionally trigger myself. Trigger my tics. It's already too much without me doing it. I guess I'm worried to. I suppose I'm worried to. Afraid to." He flexed his fingers several times, still arranging the contents.   
  
"That must be hard on you." Gavin frowned, placing his hand on the table. Ryan laid his over it, stroking it with his thumb.  
  
"I've learned to accept myself. I've learned I can't change it. I'm a burden on my friends, though. At least I have Geoff, Geoff, Geoff, and Jack, Jack." He twitched, his finger still rubbing Gavin's. "I'm sorry I'm touching you. I... I can't stop. It won't let me stop." He chewed on his lower lip, but Gavin merely smiled.  
  
"It's fine. I like it." Gavin quipped and Ryan's face flushed.  
  
"I'm sorry if I've bothered you through this meal." Ryan finally took a bite of his sub, satisfied with its arrangement.  
  
Gavin squeezed Ryan's hand comfortingly. "Don't be silly. It's not your fault." Ryan's eyes darted between Gavin's, the young man sitting still and allowing his scrutiny. "Is it always like this?"  
  
Ryan shook his head five times, paused, and shook it five times more. "No, no.. no. This is an okay day. A good day. Good day. It can be much worse. Some days I can't do anything but retrace the same steps in my house over and over again for hours. Some days, as you once witnessed, saw, witnessed, I can't stop saying the same word because no matter what I do it doesn't sound right and I just can't... stop. Stop."  
  
"It sounds like an interesting lifestyle." Gavin muttered.  
  
"I guess it makes every day an experience. A struggle. A struggle." Ryan shrugged, scarfing down another bite.  
  
"A struggle."  
  
-  
  
Gavin came into work chipper, only twenty minutes late. His boss, Jack, completely understood, and he happily took his place under register five; sure, he'd been offered a raise, but how could he pass up working at such a momentous spot? Besides, he was expecting a special visitor today.  
  
"Hey, Gav!" Michael waved to him as he attached his name tag and Gavin returned the greeting.  
  
"Hey, boi! How's Lindsay?"   
  
"She's great, man. We're moving in together!"   
  
"Congrats, Micoo!" He hooted, grinning at Ray as he passed.  
  
"Happy as always, I see." Ray remarked, receiving a playful scowl in return.  
  
"I have reason to be, don't I?" He cooed and Ray shrugged, nodding his affirmation.  
  
He hummed to himself as he worked through the first hour, a small part of him impatiently waiting until he saw exactly what he was looking for.  
  
The automatic doors opened and shut as Gavin knew Ryan was taking his steps back before entering the shop. He waved at Gavin, his hand moving five times back and forth, and smirked as he went to do his shopping.  
  
Only a couple customers later and Ryan stood before him, placing his items as he always did; Gavin had offered to help once, but he now knew that it was something only Ryan could do right in his mind.  
  
"Hey, Gavin, Gavin. Gavin. Gavin... Gavin." He greeted, grinning brightly as his now-free hand moved to flick Gavin's station light on and off.  
  
"Hey, babe! How are you today?"  
  
"On a scale of one to ten? One to twenty? Fifteen. Sixteen. Fifteen." He decided and Gavin brightened up.  
  
"Top! Feeling up for dinner tonight? Jersey Mike's sounds delicious." Ryan nodded five times, humming his agreement.  
  
Gavin leaned in for a kiss and Ryan pressed their lips together, repeating the movement exactly twenty-six times until he was completely satisfied with the perfection of it. He then added four more to make it a number divisible by five. Gavin took them all happily, his face one of content.   
  
"I was thinking. Mulling over. Thinking. Thinking. There's only one of you." Ryan said and Gavin froze, trying to meet the eyes of his boyfriend only to see that the blue irises were focused on the register, flicking between each button.   
  
"Yeah?" Gavin asked hesitantly, biting his lower lip.  
  
"That's not divisible by five. It's not even five. It's one fifth of five. Twenty percent of five. One fifth." He blinked several times before looking up at Gavin.  
  
"I think... I believe. I think I'm okay with that. I am okay with that. One is just perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you want a part two, you need to comment! I'd be more than happy to continue this, but I'm not gonna if it's totally rubbish ;3
> 
> If you don't want me to continue, leave a comment anyways! I live off of comments; they keep me wanting to write, and drive me forward.
> 
> Also, as always, my fingers are always crossed for fanart (no pressure)


End file.
